The Far, Untraveled Horizon
by Briar Hecate
Summary: Telemachus is ordered by Athena to retrieve an almost impossible object- the child of Achilles. Accompanied by a young mute who can foretell the future the two embark on a journey that will change the course of history forever.
1. Chapter 1

_The world has no room for cowards. We must all be ready somehow to toil, to suffer, to die. And yours is not the less noble because no drum beats before you when you go out into your daily battlefields, and no crowds shout about your coming when you return from your daily victory or defeat _

**Robert Lewis Stevenson**

_Come, my friends.  
'T is not too late to seek a newer world.  
Push off, and sitting well in order smite  
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds  
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths  
Of all the western stars, until I die.  
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down;  
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,  
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew  
Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'  
We are not now that strength which in old days  
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are,-  
One equal temper of heroic hearts,  
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will  
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield. _

**A selection from "Ulysses" by Lord Alfred Tennyson**

**

* * *

**

Telemachus still cursed the gods.

He knew fully well that they had provided him with reason to live and the will to be a man. Even now Athena was still smiling on him. But, with a large glob of spit stinging the earth and his voice rising the young man was quick to turn on them. After all, a foolish man was one who was quick to subjugate himself to the whims of the divine.

"Go and find the swiftest horse on this side of the plain," he instructed to the nearest farmer. "I need him as soon as you lay eyes on him."

Telemachus had been enjoying some peace his mother and father in the main city of Ithaca for a day and a half and already he was being called away once more. Walking in through the atrium and into his father's private quarters he brooded over the next task he had been given. Running a hand through his dark curls the young heir needed to speak to an older, wiser connoisseur of the gods. Odysseus seemed just the man to help him.

The castle of Ithaca was still in good condition as the years bore down on it. Telemachus remembered when his father had left for Troy, the great shining marble and precise architecture. Of course, his father's absence had caused the castle to fall into a small state of disrepair, but it gave the old citadel some kind of charm... as though it had mourned Odysseus's leave as much as his son had.

His father was poring over some scrolls when he found him on the balcony. The ocean that day seemed to be more restless than usual. The ever fickle Poseidon was probably in another romantic relationship again. Telemachus found himself pondering this as he approached the old king.

"Look at this," Telemachus demanded, throwing down the necklace on his father's desk.

Old Odysseus turned his face up at his son. Wrinkles lined his eyes and his flesh was darkened by the sun, but Telemachus had always admired his father's shining eyes. Even now they longed for adventure and discovery, but Penelope was loath to let him leave again. She had kept him close ever since his return to Ithaca.

"Peace my good boy. What brings you here now?" Odysseus said, his voice calm and lips turned up in the ghost of a smile.

"Athena. She's at it again."

Odysseus's features suddenly became stoic, as they always did when he was listening closely. "Has she called on you again?" he asked, tone still calm.

Telemachus nodded, not responding. He leaned on a column and peered out over the ocean. The winds had blown up waves. He closed his eyes listening to the sounds emitting from the shore. Oh, how he loved the waves and water. When things settled down he would return to the water for a while. It would help clear his mind.

"Well," he began, stretching against the column, "she called on one of my servants this time. She handed the worker that necklace and told him to bring it to me."

Odysseus turned the piece over in his hands. The thing was a simple strap of leather that was well-worn and battered. Hanging on it was a piece of carved stone which took the shape of waves. They curled over one another in a crude, but pleasant carving.

Odysseus coughed once and they tossed it back to his son. "I would recognize that anywhere," his father said, a darker tone entering his voice.

"What do you mean?" his son asked, suddenly intrigued by this new find.

"Achilles wore that around his neck. It was his mother's. She gave it to him to help with protection during the battle in Troy. The little that did," he said, scoffing almost. He immediately bent back down to his texts, leaving his son bewildered and still leaning against the marble.

"So, what should I do?" asked Telemachus, at a loss.

Odysseus looked up at his son and smiled knowingly. "Son, I am an old and tired man. She came to you this time. I'm sure you'll be able to solve her puzzles."

"That's not an answer, father," the young man said, slightly annoyed at his father's careless attitude.

"Telemachus, for the first time in my life I am going to leave this up to you," he said and blew out a long breath and he realized that this statement was true. Slowly, he allowed the muscles in his back to relax.

* * *

The young prince spurred the lathered horse down the gritty road. Small rocks and dust flew up behind the animal's gait, causing people to throw themselves to the side of the road. Moving his hands up the horse's mane, he squeezed his legs, urging the steed to a faster pace.

It had taken too long, in his opinion, to find him a good horse. His usual mount had injured himself and was currently resting happily in the pastures. But, Telemachus favoured his bulky, powerful war horse. The animal he was astride was lanky and had too much leg. The thing almost seemed confused by its own legs and on a few occasions had almost tossed the prince.

The Oracle was not a far ride from the palace, but it was helpful to have a swift mount. Telemachus had decided that calling on the gods may be the best option for attempting to solve Athena's puzzle. Odysseus and his son had erected the massive building shortly after his return, an eternal honour to the goddess that had watched over the both of them.

The marble structure rested on a hill nearing a densely wooded area. The sky stretched over the farmer's fields today, and Telemachus wished that he were astride his regular steed, riding through the cities... having the masses cheer his name. Being prince was not without some benefits.

His reverie ended as he pushed the animal up the stones steps of the temple. He almost rode the thing through the temple, but a firm hand on his horse's bridle stopped it in its tracks.

"Master Telemachus, I must ask what the meaning of this much honoured visit is," the high priestess noted with no touch of discomposure.

Telemachus noted sheepishly that he had knocked over a few torches and some burning incense now lay scattered over the previously immaculate floor. Swallowing he turned back to the High Priestess, who's face was unmoving but still begged a question: _What in all of Hades are you _thinking_ boy_?

"I- I'm sorry," he began, dismounting. One of the younger maids took the frothing horse outside, presumably to be washed.

The High Priestess, Thea, was one of the wisest women in Ithaca, and one of the most beautiful. Though she was older, about Penelope's age, she still maintained a face that Aphrodite would have been jealous of. Today was no exception; with her eyes coaled and hair curling effortlessly down her waist. Telemachus found himself dumbfounded.

"Is there anything I can help you with, sire?" she asked.

"Oh- yes, there is something. I must consult the oracle," when she made no move to answer he added, "sooner rather than later would be nice."

Not pressing for any more details she said, "Come."

Following Thea down the long hall that lead to the Bronze doors, the prince could feel his hands become sweaty. Consulting oracles was always a bit of a nasty business. Telemachus wondered if he fell into a trance or state of disillusion while it was happening, as things often did when gods were present. He usually emerged from the chambers slick with sweat and with no breath left in him.

"Be safe, my prince," Thea advised as she opened the chamber doors.

* * *

Eudora ran through the streets, dodging vendors and the crowds alike. She was late already for the noon prayers. Huffing, she pulled her head scarf more securely around her head and elbowed her way through the crowds. Ithaca was thrumming with activity.

"Appeared to him in the fields..."

"The prince has decided to purchase a horse..."

"Going to the oracle..."

There had been rumours bouncing from person to person all morning. She had let herself become distracted by the falsified truths. Or were they? The supposed account of a field worker's meeting with Athena herself seemed simply too incredible. Eudora bit back a pang of jealousy. How was it that the ruling family had so much contact with the gods, and her, a priestess to the temple of Athena had not one religious experience to even gloat about?

Well, not exactly a priestess. More like an apprentice priestess. She did chores for the higher-ups in the temple, but was still able to maintain a close friendship with the goddess. Although, it seemed like Athena... and all the other gods for that matter had spent little time attempting to have a relationship with her.

She was not one for relationships, really. Eudora had never known her father, and raised in a poorer area of the city it was not uncommon for that to happen. Her mother worked as a weaver and when Eudora was eight her mother sent her to work in the temple, not having much time to cultivate relationships with other people. What was supposed to be a temporary position slowly dragged on for eleven years.

Eventually the temple became her home. Occasionally though she did visit her mother, as she was doing this morning. As luck would have it (or lack of luck, more precisely) she missed the entire episode and was forced to hear embellishments fall from the lips of the many commoners. Filled with frustration and fatigue she made her way through the main marketplace and out onto the road.

The temple was not extremely far from the city. It was a good twenty minute walk. The sun resting at its peak in the sky, though, was an ever constant reminder that she was late. Media would not hesitate to thrash her if she were late to another prayer session.

Starting down the road, she broke into a run, remembering the burning welts she had received the last time she was tardy. Hiking up her skirts she pelted past merchants and shepherds, avoiding the braying sheep and yelling faces.

Then there was the loud sound of horse's hooves. "Get out of the way!" someone yelled from behind her. Suddenly she was pulled in one direction and commenced to tumble into the fields that lay beside the path. When she recovered herself, she stood up and adjusted her head scarf.

"Best to steer clear of the roads when you get the prince out for an afternoon ride," one of the younger shepherds advised, a smile on his face. "There you go, all better," he said cheerfully, pleased at himself for aiding the young woman.

Eudora thanked him with a wave of her hand and took off down the road once more. Her sandals bit into her feet as she finally made it to the temple steps. Kicking them off, she ran down the lengthy halls until she reached the chamber doors.

She skidded to halt as she realized that the priestesses were not in their normal formation. Coughing lightly, she wiped her nose and stared at the main chamber doors. The torches had been lit and the massive bronze gate was sealed shut. She held her hand over her heart, ready to collapse.

"There you are girl!"

Turning around, Eudora found Media striding toward her. Eudora put her head down and began walking toward the end of the temple walls, but Media caught her arm before she was able to make her escape.

"Look at you!" Media scolded in her shrill voice. "You may be a mute but you're certainly not a fool! I told you to be here for the high noon prayer and you dare to enter the sanctum of Athena looking like this!" Media motioned furiously to the disarray of her clothing. The dark stains of dirt and smudges of grass did not make the maid look becoming either.

Eudora smiled lightly and shrugged her shoulders.

"Oh, you... you're going to be _howling_ at the gods by the time I'm through with you... you disgraceful-"

A poignant banging emitted from the oracle room. Suddenly a large wind roared through the hall, extinguishing the torches and knocking the women to their backs. Slowly sitting up, Eudora glanced over at Media. Her face was still as she covered her heart in earnest.

"The Gods are present," she whispered.

* * *

"Hermes!" Telemachus yelled with surprise.

The gust of the god's arrival had hit him like a blow to the stomach. He was still attempting to recover himself as Hermes perched comfortably on the altar. He smoothed his silken clothes and adjusted his hair slightly. He then tapped his knee, seemingly impatient.

"I called for Athena," Telemachus corrected.

"Yes, and she sent me," Hermes replied, a small smiled on his face. "She's currently engaged in other tedious tasks. So like Athena, always working too hard."

Telemachus bit back his disappointment. He had been hoping to see the goddess, whom he felt more comfortable around. She was kind and understanding with an easy line of thought to follow. While Hermes could be decent company he was also full of riddles and jokes, rarely returning to the point of his visit. Telemachus just hoped that Athena had done the right thing in sending him.

"There's much talk on Olympus now..." Hermes began, smiling the way he always did before imparting gossip on a mortal.

"Talk of what?" asked the prince, despite his better judgement becoming increasingly interested in what the Messenger god had to say.

Hermes pretending to be uninterested, picked at his golden sandals with distaste. "Talk of heirs and such. Rumours have been spreading that Achilles had a son before he left for Troy. Can you imagine? An heir to the greatest warrior on this planet? How very delicious."

"Achilles' heir?"

That would have to mean that Achilles had time to produce a child before he was sent off to Troy. But, no one knew if the warrior had a wife. The man was a notorious womanizer as well, there could have been other children as well. Gods knew how many children. It would not be easy.

"Precisely, and its what Athena wants from you," Hermes added.

"What?" Telemachus asked, disbelievingly. Athena had never sent him to recover something before. He was unnerved at the thought of doing this.

"Did you not hear me?" asked Hermes, purposely ignoring the rhetoric in Telemachus' voice.

"No, I heard you, I just find it odd. What would Athena want with Achilles' heir?" the prince questioned out loud.

"Ah, well, I suppose you shall find out as you go along. Not to worry though, Athena does have a special gift for you as well. There's a girl here, a young mute-"

"A _mute_? How will you expect me to understand them?"

"Find a way to communicate because she'll be indispensable to you. She can tell the future and she'll be the one guiding you on this task."

Telemachus nodded in understanding, finding the situation growing ever-more complicated "What's her name?"

"Eudora, and I suggest you gather everything you'll need today. She's already had a vision. She won't be hard to find, just outside the doors. I can sense her already."

"Thank you Hermes," Telemachus said, bowing his head and preparing to dismiss himself.

"Oh- there is one more thing you may want to know my boy. Do not bed the poor dear. With the loss of her maidenhead comes the loss of her foresight."

Telemachus frowned. A curious request, to say the least. "Yes, I understand," he replied, preparing to exit the shrine.

"Good then, son of Odysseus. I wish you well." He smiled then, and did not wait for Telemachus to exit the room as he flew out the door, leaving a gusting trail behind him.

* * *

Eudora covered her head as the god exited the oracle chamber. She was frightened, feeling her heart beating wildly beneath the taut skin of her chest. Breathing heavily she shut her eyes, remembering the dream she had earlier that morning. It had included wind, much wind. Wind so real she could almost taste it.

"Get up!" scolded Media, pulling her to her feet. "Bow your head, there is royalty present."

She lifted her eyes for a moment, only to see the prince walking down the hall, in their direction. She coughed and bowed her head, staring down at her bare feet. Her ruined sandals were off somewhere in the temple. She would have to ask the High Priestess for new ones. Media would not approve.

"Are you the one they call Eudora?" a voice asked from above her.

She tilted her head up to look into the prince's dark, serious eyes. Eudora had heard much about the prince from the commoners, and she had seen him on occasion, riding through the streets on his large warhorse. But, he seemed so much more intimidating up close. She knew why the gods had chosen him now. He radiated with a royal confidence which she was certain could only come from being bred from monarchs.

She nodded her head slowly.

"You are to come with me," he ordered.

"But my prince!" it was Media, she sounded absolutely astounded. "She is a mute and cannot speak. She will not be of any use to you-"

He held up his hand, stopping her from speaking. "Hermes told me himself that she was sent from Athena to help guide me. I trust in her wisdom."

_I trust in her wisdom_. The words that fell from his lips seemed oddly familiar. She had seen this time before, in a blurred image. In a dream. She had seen more too- rolling hills and endless blue skies, scenes that had been too incredible to be tangible.

Now, staring up at the prince she felt small and helpless. Coughing lightly she averted her eyes and looked down at her own sandals.

_I trust in her wisdom_. Gods, did she hope Athena was watching over her now.

**Author's Note**

Thank you for taking the time to read the new story I've decided to write. Taking a break from some other stories I feel will be good for me. I've had this idea for a while now, and I'm excited to see it come into play.

Hopefully you will continue reading and will enjoy the rest of the story!

Briar.


	2. Chapter 2

She did not want to leave. Odd as it was, she felt safe at the temple. It had become her home, she had come to love the great, massive stone pillars that she worked under everyday. It was familiar, it was normal. But, the prince had decreed she had to leave, and Eudora had no choice.

It was not just the prince, but Athena as well. And, as much as she wanted to, she could not deny the patron goddess that which she wanted most.

Was she even gifted by Athena, as Telemachus had said?

It was hardly believable. Eudora was not particularly special. The only thing which set her apart from other was her long curly, straw-coloured hair which she covered to keep the stares away and her worn throat which could not produced coherent syllables. Now she was beginning to question the world around her. Who had known about her gift? The head priestess, possibly.

Eudora swallowed, thinking on the prospect that secrets had been kept from her. The secret of her dreams. The vivid, terrifyingly realistic dreams she had each night were suddenly and very openly publicized to her and the other priestesses in the temple. Now she was stared at from long distances, as if she were some rare bird. She hated it.

_No, not that one_, she signed to one of the younger maids, who was helping her pack her things.

The maid looked at her, puzzled for a moment. The girl could not read her hands. Shoulders sinking, Eudora suddenly felt her frustration growing.

"Pack it anyway, she will need everything, even her finest clothes," came a voice from behind.

Turning around, the young woman saw that it was the head priestess. Eudora felt as though she should bow, or do something of religious importance. Swallowing again she did nothing instead, staring like a fool. She had never been that close to her before. It was unnerving.

Thea sent the young maid away with a look and then it was only the two women alone in the room. Eudora could feel her skin breakout in gooseflesh, unprepared. She looked at the ground, bowing her head in compensation. Truly, she felt out of place.

Thea walked with such grace, it seemed inhuman. Gliding over to the pile of clothes laid out on her modest sleeping mat, Eudora watched as she held one up to the sunlight.

"They'll have to do," she murmured. Then she glanced over at the young woman. Eudora looked away again, feeling as though she had done something wrong.

"I remember when my parents sent me to live at the temple," she began, her voice airy and as lithe as her soft footfalls. "I was in complete euphoria. The thought of devoting my life to some great... unknown was a romantic and... adventurous notion."

Eudora nodded her head. Thea came to stand in front of her sliding a finger under Eudora's chin she slowly forced her jaw upward. "Look at me, child," she commanded.

Bringing her eyes to match the head priestess' Eudora felt that odd sensation rise in the pit of her stomach. "Athena has chosen you for a reason. You are mute, a woman and have never been to sea before. You will see strange lands, you will experience new things. You will be faced with fear and disillusionment. But, you will also face your true self during these many months. Do not fear it. You have a strength in you that you do not even recognize."

The head priestess closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. Then, pulling away she glanced over she shoulder. "I feel the prince is near," she mentioned, almost as though it were in passing.

Glancing over Thea's shoulder, Eudora grimaced. She did not want to leave.

* * *

"Come, come!" Barka yelled to some lolly-gagging servants.

The head slave was a ruddy old man with a knack for organization. The other palace workers lived in both fear and awe of him. He waved his arms radically as he directed traffic to and from the ship yard.

"How are things coming along?" Telemachus called down to the servant.

"Excellently sir!" Barka called back, submerged in activity and trying his best to be cordial to the prince. Telemachus could tell, however, that he was in the way of everything.

The old stone structure was alive with activity. Telemachus made his way past servants and sea faring men alike, all were preparing the ship for the journey that was going to take place. The prince had decided to leave as early as possible, though a day and a half until departure seemed almost like torture. He wanted to be there now, venturing onward as his father had once done. Telemachus shivered with excitement. He would finally have a purpose, have stories written about him... he had a chance to be remembered.

Telemachus sighed and drummed his fingers lightly on the railing of the balcony, watching the scenes unfold before him like a well directed play.

"You should find some way to busy yourself," Penelope mentioned cordially, coming to stand beside him at the balcony.

Telemachus glanced over at his mother. Penelope always stood tall and regally, that air of importance and superiority constantly following her washed over her son for a moment. He found himself checking his posture.

"They want me out of the way," he murmured.

"You are sulking," she answered back without hesitation. Looking back toward her son she smiled lightly. "How like your father you are," she stated in a low tone.

"I am just anxious to begin," Telemachus mentioned. He was sulking, but only slightly.

"Your father used to go for a nice ride before a long journey. He said it used to calm his nerves. Perhaps you ought to do the same. That war horse of yours has been pastured far too long, it has begun to give the servants trouble," she advised.

Telemachus did not answer. Knowing his mother, she was probably right. A good gallop was the cure for many problems, anxiety being the main affliction. He tapped his finger on the granite once more.

"Go," Penelope commanded, pushing his arm lightly.

"Thank you mother," he said, and it was genuine. She had given him permission to leave his princely duties behind for a few minutes.

"Go Telemachus," she said again, but with less authority.

He kissed her on the cheek and then began walking to the stables, feeling lighter than he had before.

* * *

Eudora walked along the beach, allowing the grains of sand to massage her feet and sooth her slightly. There was too much to think about already, and she had decided to try and stay her nerves before returning to the temple. She bent down to retrieve a small shell which caught her eye in the sunlight.

Dusting the slightly get wet grains from it's smooth surface she held it carefully between her thumb and forefinger. She remembered her mother telling her something about her father loving the sea. Eudora sighed and allowed herself to sit back in the sand.

How she would miss her mother these many months away. Her mother was her safety, a person who she knew was there for her in the most dire of times. It had not been easy without a father, and when her mother had refused to remarry, it was not uncommon for harsh stares to be cast in their direction. Throughout all the hardship there she always seemed to bear the most terrible circumstances with a soft smile and kind words.

Eudora wanted to be the same. Have the same easy laugh and playful sense of humour. Those two qualities were hard to cultivate though. Without her voice, there was so much she could not explain, so much she could not describe... to be able to explain to someone how they were feeling, oh that would be a sweet and wonderful thing to do.

But, words were foreign to her. She couldn't even recall a time when she could form them. Her mother used to tell her that she was fairly talkative before the virus took hold. Eudora remembered her mother's face when the doctor had explained to her that the throat had been damaged beyond repair. It was one of the few times she had seen her mother's face shed tears.

"M-ma-ah n-na-m-muh ei-ss," she pushed out. Her throat itched and she coughed a few times. Then she cleared her throat and tried the simple greeting again.

Eyes fixed on the ocean, focusing hard on the horizon line she was about to make another attempt when she heard a wild scream in the distance.

Getting up to her feet, she could see that the scream had come from a horse that was now running loose, riderless. The massive animal threw its head to the sky and let out another loud squeal before setting off at a gallop.

Eudora held her arms out as the animal charged nearer.

_Easy_, she thought, _be easy you big brute_.

As though her thoughts had been heard the animal slowed to a canter and its ears pricked forward jovially, as though in happy greeting. Slightly less terrified, Eudora let her arms drop to her side as the curious beast trotted over, eyes flashing inquisitively.

Reaching out to take the animal by the reins, she shushed it with her hands, allowing easy messages to process themselves into her hands and into the animal's soft skin. The horse shook its head and whinnied loudly again. Eudora slackened the reins a little and cast her gaze toward a figure in the sand who was slowly returning to their feet.

Eudora decided to lead the horse over. Tugging the reins slightly the beast complied happily, trotting along as Eudora tried to retain a calm walk. The thing was impossible, pawing the ground and snorting, sidestepping its way over to its master. Eudora had never been one for horses. They were too unpredictable.

She was surprised to see that the owner of the horse was actually the prince himself. She kept her gaze low, not really wanting to try and converse with him. It was like that with all people, she would only end up listening to their problems.

"You managed to catch him! He's a spirited one, but those are the best kind to carry you into battle, but not the best to take on a nice, easy ride," the prince said easily. Eudora liked the sound of his voice. It was deep, but musical at the same time.

She smiled and nodded, handing the reins to him. She curtseyed slightly and then turned to walk away. "Wait!" he called, affixing his hand to her shoulder as she walked away.

Turning around she held his gaze for a moment before turning her eyes back to the horse. She patted it lightly on the neck, which was now heavily lathered.

"You are coming with us aren't you? You and your maid, Media? I suppose a proper introduction is in order then. I am Telemachus, son of Odysseus, but you probably know that already don't you? They told me your name is Europa?"

He seemed genuinely interested, but Eudora was not about to correct him. Instead she just smiled and started to walk away again. There were too many questions and she did not want to spell them out in the sand for him. He had clearly forgotten that she had no voice to answer him with, and she wanted to finish her walk along the beach.

"Oh! Do wait! I'm sorry! I'm such a dolt, I really am! Thea told me that you cannot speak. I forgot that small detail," he said, smiling genuinely.

A few moments of silence passed between them. Eudora was beginning to lose interest.

"Why don't you come with to see the ship yard? Here, I'll take you now," he said excitedly.

She had only begun to shake her head when he gripped her arm and hip and hoisted her up onto the raging animal. She was sure to that an unacceptable amount of leg displayed as he carried out that action as well. Swinging up behind her, he reached around her to grip the reins. She flushed massively at the impropriety of it all.

"Don't worry," he assured her, "he really is quite tame."

Shutting her eyes as tight as they would manage she kneaded her hands into the horse's mane and prayed to Athena. With one squeeze of Telemachus' legs the steed was off at a loud gallop.

* * *

Hermes watched from his perch in an olive tree as the poor girl was yanked onto the horse, and they took off at a frightening speed.

"Telemachus, you fool," he muttered, chuckling to himself.

"Well, he certainly knows how to handle women," said Aphrodite as she approached from behind, resting her figure again the bark. She looked a little worn, after coming back from her weekly meeting with Ares. She was flushed heavily, some of her chocolate locks dampened with sweat.

"And of course you would know," Hermes clucked, before popping an olive in his mouth.

"Indeed I would," she said, smiling and stretching her figure. "Ah, he is a fool. Or maybe because he has not heard her protest. Not that many women would I'd wager, certainly has a fine face, much like his father. We best keep Calypso away from that one."

"I do believe that Calypso still is pining away for his father."

"Pathetic," murmured the goddess, twisting a lock of hair around her finger. "I have no patience for nymphs."

"Not many do," quipped Hermes.

"So what does Athena want with that girl anyhow?"

"Something about her having foresight. She needs the girl to help Telemachus. Though I think this may turn out to be a slight disaster."

"Oh Hermes, always so negative. Is that because you've been too high up in the clouds today? Got caught in one of Zeus' lightning storms?" she teased, her beautiful eyes shining bright blue.

Hermes caught himself staring at those eyes for a moment and then answered, "No, because the way he's looking at her tells me she may not have the sight for long."

"What does that mean?"

"If he sleeps with her, she will lose the gift. Only those untouched may retain their powers."

"Oh! But that's no fun! Who says that to be true?"

Hermes smiled at her and then glanced back at the beach. The only remnants of the duo were the hoof prints indicating their departure. "Says Zeus."

* * *

Telemachus slowed his horse as they came up to the docks. He slid off and then helped the girl down. She was breathing quite heavily, her head scarf had become askew in the process and she was shaking slightly.

"Are you alright?" he questioned.

She nodded her head slowly, clutching onto her robes. Her eyes were wide as she glanced on at the ship. Telemachus offered her his arm, but she did not see it, instead she turned her body to get a better view of the harbour. Shadowing his eyes against the sun he began to walk down to the docks, the girl in close tow with him.

"Is she not magnificent? My father designed her himself, but I will be the one sailing her." He helped her down a series of jagged rocks leading downward. She tripped up into his arms, and every time that happened she would blush with such vigour Telemachus wondered if she had been sunburned.

The ship that Telemachus was referring to was indeed something to behold. He had watched his father draw up the plans, and to see the structure bobbing lightly in the water made him practically quiver with excitement. The vessel was long, with oars on either side and a tall mast which housed a large, single sail.

"Would you like to go on?" he asked.

The girl looked at the boat, then at the sun, which was just beginning its descent. She shook her head lightly and then pointed to the sky.

"Is it time for you to leave?" he guessed.

To his relief she nodded her head. "Would you like me to take you back?" he then asked.

She shook her head, but smiled lightly. Telemachus was slightly hurt by that. "No, I insist," he stated in his most chivalrous tone yet. He started to walk toward the path leading up to his horse, but she pressed a hand to his chest.

Still smiling she shook her head.

"Alright then," he said.

She did a half hearted bow and turned on her heel. Telemachus watched her walk away. But, then something went wrong. He saw her clutch onto her side and then stagger. Quite suddenly the young mute had toppled over and into the water.


End file.
